


We're Only Human

by rubyisms



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Background Ozpin/James, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Multi, Non-binary character, On Hiatus, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyisms/pseuds/rubyisms
Summary: It had been eighty years since The War ended. In that time, mankind had declared emotions far too dangerous to have, and slowly, the ability to feel emotions naturally was taken away from humanity.When James Ironwood gets caught up in an investigation that leads him to a drug dealer by the name of Ozpin, he quickly finds himself plunged into a conspiracy and plot that goes beyond negative and positive emotions and what's right and wrong.With time running out to stop this heinous plot, James has to abandon everything he's ever been taught and ally himself with the very same people he had been told to frown upon before it's too late. And maybe if he lost himself in a storm of emotion use and abuse along the way, no one could really blame him, right?





	We're Only Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for a long time, I've always had this general AU of "Humanity can't feel emotions and recreate it in the form of drugs to get a high." As I got older, I developed it more and more until recently when I decided to return to it with this fic.
> 
> Because emotions are drugs in this fic, there's a lot of heavy drug use and drug dealing. Proceed with caution if that's not your thing.

For as long as James could remember, he couldn't feel anything. There was no joy, no sorrow, no anger, and no fear that coursed through his body during appropriate times to experience it. There was zero emotion in his body, leaving him a hollow and empty man.

That was the norm for humanity now.

He had been taught in school about how once, mankind felt emotion freely and carelessly. It was a happy time everyone had said, with progressive movements lead by the positive emotions. But The Great War had changed it all. Men and women in power across the world had acted on anger and aggression, plunging the world into what had felt to them like an endless war. Anger and hate only lead to violence, which only lead to more anger and hate. The cycle kept repeating until happiness was rare.

The War eventually ended, but not without loss. Politicians and scientists alike had decided it was best to attempt to remove mankind’s ability to feel any kind of emotion, be it positive or negative.

That had been 80 years ago, and now James and his squadron were now waiting to be lead into the science labs where they had recently announced they were recreating emotions as their predecessors once experienced them. The only catch, they said, was it was only temporary as opposed to the permanent sensation.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he was lead in a separate room away from his fellow soldiers and friends. Instead, he just sat there waiting for the scientist, his face blank and expressionless. At last, a man in a white lab coat arrives and asks him to roll his sleeve up. James does so, and the scientist rubs his arm down before drawing strangely colored liquid from a vial. He doesn’t get a good look at it before the man clears his throat.

“You may feel a pinch.” The needle sinks into his arm, and there is a burn as the drug floods his system.

When it all hits, it hits at once and James can feel so many things at once. He feels an extremely tight sensation in his chest and shivers going down his spine. His eyes are going wide and he can feel his body tremble ever so slightly, unsure what was happening to him. An arm swings out and knocks the scientist down. The vial goes flying and James’ catches a glimpse of what it was labeled.

Fear.

So this was what fear had felt like then? Perhaps it was best that humanity had emotions taken away if it was so powerful and terrifying like what he had been experiencing. His body is still trembling when security is called in to restrain him and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest like he had just been running a mile around the base. Just before security knocks him out, he can overhear the scientists talking how the emotion was ‘good to go.’

And then everything goes black.

  
  
  
  


General James Ironwood hated emotions. When he was younger, he and his squadron had been tested on, against their will, with emotions approved by the government. It was a power play. They wanted to keep their citizens in line by using it as a weapon. He had heard it being described as many things; A weapon of war, a torture method, a cruel but unusual punishment, but James had experienced first hand what it really was.

It’s not something he likes to think about these days.

He also doesn't like to think about the fact how Jacques Schnee, in all of his power-hungry games thought today would be a perfect day to show up in his office. If James had half a mind, he’d send the man away, leave him to play his games elsewhere.

But James Ironwood was a far too forgiving man.

Jacques is angry when he walks in and James can’t help but sigh. Even with emotions being regulated by the government, it didn’t stop people like Jacques from gaining access to them for a quick hit. Why anyone would be willing to take those drugs is beyond James, but perhaps he was simply biased as he never had the best experience with them.

“Hello Jacques,” James begins to speak, voice level and flat, “what can I help you with today-”

“Someone’s stealing my business!” He immediately snaps and he blinks. That would explain why Jacques took the anger boost. Emotions always clouded a person’s judgement, James had been taught.

“Jacques, I highly doubt anyone is stealing your business.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even without emotions, Jacques never failed to give him a headache. “Is this _ really  _ a matter that has to be brought to my concern?”

“The Schnee Family has a name and a reputation that has to be upheld. If word gets out about what I have been doing, I could be ruined!” He hisses and James blinks again, raising a brow.   
  
“And what  _ have _ you been doing, Jacques, that could ruin the name of the family you  _ married _ into?” James leans forward to rest his elbows on the surface of his desk. His hands come folded together and he peeks at Jacques through the way his hands clasp together. He knows damn well what Jacques has been doing, but there was something about actually hearing him say it that left James with a foreign feeling in his chest.

It was probably nothing.

“You know damn well what I’ve been doing, James.” Jacques hisses, “Now are you going to do something about it or are you going to continue to ask me pointless questions?”

“I am a general, not a private investigator. You want someone to investigate who’s stealing your drug addicts, then find someone else. That’s not in my job description.” He’s lowering his hands to return to the work he had been working on, but Jacques slams a hand down onto his paperwork, “ _ Jacques _ .”

“ _ James _ ,” he echoes, “I’m aware that your job as General does not involve specific tasks like what I am asking you, but you are responsible for keeping our citizens healthy and safe. Investigating this would ensure that.”

And James stares at Jacques Schnee, face hard and for an uncomfortably long time. Jacques doesn’t back down and he can’t help but let out a soft growl, before he inhales through his nose.

“Very well. I’ll clear it with my superiors.”

* * *

James Ironwood  _ really _ hated Jacques Schnee.

The meeting with his superiors was supposed to be a quick and easy one, one that was strictly between him and the council, the very same one he held his own seat on. But, Jacques being the kind of man he was, found a way into the private affair and had currently spent an hour attempting to clarify how James was the best choice to  _ personally  _ handle the case.

If it hasn't been for that coward, James would've been able to send someone else out to investigate. He even had someone in mind, planning to send Winter as she had been investigating the drug trade ever since it was first brought to their attention.

But no, the coucil had agreed with Jacques that to ensure the safety of their people, it must be him. And so, James was now back in his office, poring over file after file Winter had brought him on every possible lead they had gotten in recent years. Some files were thick and held promising leads, others.. not so much.

“This one,” Winter walks in and tosses a file onto his desk, “is the one we’ve currently been after.” Curious, James abandons the one he’d been reading about some woman known as ‘Goodwitch’ and picks up the one Winter just gave him.

It’s a thin file, much like Goodwitch’s, but it contains a picture of the suspect and handwritten notes he recognizes as Winter’s handwriting.

_ Suspect highly connected to Goodwitch and Q.  _ He had skipped over the file for ‘Q’ but wonders if it's worth a return to,  _ Subject also most likely dangerous. Proceed with caution _

There’s other notes like that, some that seem oddly specific like their gender identity and preferred pronouns. He wonders how close Winter had to get close to this individual to know that.

There’s no name, however. Not a single one anywhere. James looks up at Winter to ask where the name, even just an alias they use is, but she holds a finger up to her lips.

“Not here. Come by my apartment tonight. I’ll tell you there.” James thinks that's an odd request, but he sighs and gives a nod in response.

What’s the worse thing that could happen?

* * *

He has no problem finding where Winter lives. After all, after Jacques publicly and dramatically disowned her, he personally made it his mission to find the eldest of the Schnee children a place to live. James is walking up to the door, thankful the weather was still cold enough to give him a  good excuse for wearing long sleeves.

Even if it had been publicly known for a few years about James’ disability, it wasn’t something he was still entirely comfortable showing off in public. The less of his metal half the world saw, the better. At least that was what he always told himself.

“General!” Winter answers when he knocks, and unless his eyes and ears are deceiving him, he swears her lips are twitched upwards in a soft smile and her voice isn’t empty and hollow. “Come on in.”

When he does, it becomes obvious to James why Winter knows the name of the person whose file he carried in his bag. But he doesn’t say anything even as he spots the pills on the coffee table.

Winter must’ve noticed his stares because the sound of her clearing her throat grabs his attention and he looks up at her, blinking. Even if her smile was from artificial joy, he thought she looked lovely when she smiled. “I’m sure you have questions for me.”

“Only a couple,” he admits, “but I won’t judge. It’s not my business nor place to judge what people do in his free time.”

And it was the honest truth. James was only stuck in this investigation in the first place because of Jacques’ paranoia, an investigation his own daughter formerly lead. And now he could see why no leads were getting anywhere.

“I do want to know; Are you buying or supplying them?” He knows she has access to the Schnee manor and could easily slip in and steal her father’s illegal and shady supply of drugs. And honestly, if she had been doing that, then Jacques was looking in the wrong place for sabotage.

“Hmm.” She writes something down on the back of one of her business cards laying around. There’s a smile on her face as she hands it out to him, teeth slightly exposed as her smile becomes a grin. “Go to Vale. There’s a bar called The Devil’s Martini. Tell the bartender I sent you and he’ll handle the rest.”

James looks at her, an eyebrow raised as he looks down at her handwriting on the card. Ozpin. That didn’t sound like a real name, but he trusted Winter that she wasn’t sending him into danger. They had been through too much together for her to send him to a drug dealer who, according to her own notes, was dangerous. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You only have one biased opinion on the idea of emotions. You’ve always rejected any form of it when it’s offered, and I can understand that. But James… Perhaps not all emotions are a bad thing.” Winter finally says after a moment, still avoiding his questions, “I hope you’ll see that soon.”

James doesn’t thank her as he leaves, still mulling over what she had said. The regulated negative emotions were the only ones allowed; anything else was banned. He had been told time and time again, from his sergeant in the military, to the councilmen and women that there had been a reason emotions were beaten out of them.

“We’re only human, after all.” He hears her before the door closes behind him.

* * *

He finds the bar with ease. The bartender, named Junior(and James was positive that was not his real name), is defensive at first when the General walks into his bar. Hell, the whole bar had fallen quiet as they watched James approach the bar for a drink. The card feels like a burn in his pocket, but he leaves it there, waiting until he finishes his drink.

“Winter Schnee sent me.” And he could see the tension in Junior’s shoulders go away as he is lead out back to an alleyway that appeared to be closed off from the streets. Interesting.

“Oldtimer’s just around the corner. Go right, take a left, you’ll spot them.” Junior says with a grunt. “They’re hard to miss.”

“Thanks?” And the door slams shut behind him.  _ Go right, take a left, _ he repeats mentally.

He spots the figure at the end of the alleyway, at a dead end. Their head turns to see who’s approaching and from where he stands, he can’t tell if this person was a thousand years old or in his thirties.

Probably the latter.   
  
“General James Ironwood.” They breathe in through their teeth, approaching cautiously. He notices they’re walking with a cane and are clad in a dark green suit. If it weren’t for the fact they were in a dirty alleyway by a few metal trash cans, he would’ve assumed they were on their way to a formal event, “whatever brings you here?”

“Winter sent me.” He says again, and they chuckle, taking another step forward. “And I have questions for you, that I want answered.”

“In time, General. If Winter sent you, I can assure you that you will find what you’re looking for.” They hold up a hand as if to silence them. Then there’s a loud bang nearby the metal trash cans. Before James has a chance to turn around, he can feel something hard and metal striking the back of his head.

The dealer curses as they rush forward, James’ assailant moving into his line of view. It’s too dark and his vision is far too blurry to make out the shape properly, but he swears the shadowy figure is  _ grinning _ at him. He wonders if it was all a trap, but Ozpin’s reaction proves otherwise.

James goes down and struggles to stay awake, but the hit had been pretty hard and he’s positive he’s suffered minor head trauma. As the lights fade and the world begins to blur, he can hear Ozpin scolding his assailant. Their voices are faint and he can’t catch every word, but they sound angry as they yell out a name.  _ Qrow _ .

Then everything fades to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


End file.
